


Lanterns

by renee_day



Series: Hotel California (or How Many Times Can I Reference One Song in These Drabbles) [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Drabble, Dreamy Nostalgia, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, dinner date, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 15:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4396859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renee_day/pseuds/renee_day
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil's lovely and lantern-lit, and Dan's nostalgic and affectionate. Drabble based on their selfie at the Shard's Chinese restaurant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lanterns

                Dan’s been organizing this dinner for months, reserving a table and inquiring about menu options and quietly diverting plans to different days, and the work pays itself off two seconds in the door with the soft lantern-light on Phil’s face. It’s an aura, a muddled sense he feels in his teeth and jaw and chest. Phil’s eyes are glinting and fond, and he’s breathtaking. Of course, he’s told Phil this before, told him how difficult it was to choke out a response that first skype call, how that first grainy communication left Dan dazed with the casual beautiful existence of him. They have a meeting about the book later, and it’s such a stark reminder of how far they’ve come that bittersweet nostalgia’s already rushing in his mouth and down his throat, choking him with the knowledge of this perfect moment’s passing as it happens.

                He gets like this, sometimes – long stretches of time where he’s so high in his head he’s lost that sense of _now_ , and a sense of acting gets in the way of existing as himself. He tries to notice when he was doing it, but forcing himself back into the present is both difficult and jarring. Phil is always waiting for him when he touches back down, sometimes even drawing him back himself with a few gentle words.

                They’re led to the table, Dan’s hand gently guiding Phil by the crook of his elbow, just enough contact to satisfy their sense of companionship. Neither of them have ever been big on PDA, even when discretion isn’t required. They order dumplings as appetizers – pork for Phil, cabbage and bamboo pith for Dan – along with their drinks. They order champagne as a toast to their success, and choose a mixed drink for each other. Dan’s is delightful, tasting of citrus and mint (he’d chosen for taste), whereas Phil got the one named after a dragon. It’s delightfully presented, but in terms of taste...

                “Dan, is that an asparagus stalk? You ordered me a vegetable drink?!”

                And after having a sip,

                “Oh God, it tastes like fish. Ugh uh uhuh ew.” Dan chuckles and gives him a mint leaf to chew on.

                They head to the bathroom between the main course and dessert, its mirrored ceiling irresistible in its selfie-producing capabilities. Dan’s humming now, wondering whether the restaurant has any pink champagne on ice, and Phil’s gliding around the room looking at the fancy sinks and soaps and lanterns. The lamp is garnet and topaz, his face milky moonstone. He comes back over and stands in Dan’s space, presses a kiss to his lips. Dan licks into his mouth, holds his lip between his teeth, mouths at the upturn of Phil’s smile.

                “I love you.” Phil’s smile widens, and he pulls Dan closer, lets him trace the new shape of his mouth. “I think we should get married.” Phil noses at Dan’s temple, lets his lips pull across his cheek.

                “That sounds like a good idea,” Phil whispers, and runs his fingers through the hair on the back of his head, scritches at Dan’s neck, gently runs his nails up the side of it. Dan shivers at the feel of it, leans his forehead in to touch Phil’s and they just exist for a few moments.

                “I think I just proposed.” Phil gives a soft mmph sound and pulls away. They link arms as they head back to dessert.

                “I think we were always just going to fall into it,” Phil comments on the taxi home, and his eyes still look like they’re reflecting lantern-light. His arm is curved over Dan’s stomach, forearm pressed over his belly in a soft, filling kind of intimacy. “I’m thinking a spring wedding, by the way.”

                Dan yawns and huddles closer, the jacket Phil brought as an afterthought stretched over them. “I was thinking winter.”  Phil’s fingers tap gently against his hip. “You’d look lovely against the snow, and it’s sooner.”

                “We’d look lovely,” Phil mutters, and then yawns. Minutes later, they’re woken up and ushered out of the cab, heavy with dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this lovely piece of art: http://phantheraglama.tumblr.com/post/124678573506/table-for-two-more-my-god-this-took-a-while  
> and something about the way they painted the lanterns just seemed so tactile, so a drabble had to be made.


End file.
